T he cell phone rang out inside the taxi on the wharf at Puerto Quetzal. Rodriguez pursed her lips, exasperated at Wiley’s insistence on organising the asset in Puerto Quetzal from Washington. She had been dialling the secure cell phone since 4 a.m. without success, and there was no word on either O’Connor or Weizman. Langley was an hour ahead of Guatemala City and Rodriguez knew it wouldn’t be long before Wiley would be on the secure line demanding answers. She dialled the number again. This time a sleepy voice answered.
‘? Si?’
‘? Que esta pasando? What’s happening? Is there anything to report?’
‘? Como?’
Rodriguez took a deep breath. ‘Tutankhamen. Nefertiti?’
‘Ah. Si… They not come,’ the taxi driver replied in halting English.
Five minutes later, Rodriguez put down the phone, convinced that Fawlty Towers’ Manuel and Langley’s asset had a lot in common.
At CIA’s headquarters, Howard Wiley scanned the latest intelligence report from Cardinal Felici at the Vatican: OPERATION MAYA DDO EYES ONLY Contact in San Pedro confirms Hernandez made a hasty departure from the presbytery where he lived. Point of interest is a quantity of scuba gear left behind. Will advise. Felici
Scuba gear. Wiley pondered whether Lake Atitlan might be the repository for something of great interest. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
‘Come.’
‘I thought you ought to know, sir. The media are carrying a story on this morning’s Minuteman test… CNC are about to cross live,’ Larry Davis announced.
‘What the fuck? That’s a top-secret firing!’ Wiley reached for the remote.
‘I’ve spoken briefly with Gakona. It seems there’s been a malfunction. Input into the computer may have been out by a decimal point, which they think has caused the missile to impact the wrong side of the ionospheric shield, sending it south-west instead of north-east – here it is now.’
A ‘breaking news’ pull-through was scrolling across the bottom of CNC’s coverage of the Australian Open golf tournament: MYSTERY OBJECT